HDM: The Alabaster Map - WILL NOT BE CONTINUED
by trisweb
Summary: After the Amber Spyglass; this story begins in a conference on Dark Matter in Will's world, and surprises soon abound. The first chapter may be good, but I have lost interest and purpose in continuing it. Thus, it will end there.


_His Dark Materials ∙ Book IV  
_The Alabaster Map  
By Tristan Harward

_ Introduction _

I should never have thought to write this… the trilogy is over, and it was finalized by its author, Philip Pullman years ago, but I feel there is more story to tell. I have no right, legal or otherwise, to write this. Consider it my own stories set in a world created by another author. This should never and will never be published. The ending of _The Amber Spyglass_ was perfect, aside from how it left the remainder of our beloved heroes lives' a mystery. They were to create, in their own respective worlds, the Republic of Heaven. Heaven on Earth, if you will. This novelette begins where the trilogy left off – the two "children-no-longer-children" have fallen in love, and, to spite happily ever after, forced apart to live in their own worlds, with all windows to travel between them to be closed. However, they are told of a way they can see each other again – the angel Zaphania told them it uses the faculty of Imagination, and "you have a friend who has already taken the first steps, and who could help you." The author leaves open this window of possibility, and never closes it. And to quote Pullman, "They turned to the angel and saw she had understood, and that she felt as sorrowful as they did. But she could see farther than they could, and there was a calm hope in her expression, too." I wish only to reveal what the angel possibly could have seen then.

* * *

_Fine vapors escape from whatever is doing the living._

_The night is cold and delicate and full of angels_

_Pounding down the living. The factories are all lit up,_

_The chime goes unheard._

_We are together at last, though far apart._

—from "The Ecclesiast" by John Ashbury (appears before the first chapter of _The Amber Spyglass_)

* * *

**_One _** _ The Lodestone Resonator _

"Doctor, it simply does not make any logical sense; _that_ is our problem."

"Well, yes, to someone who hasn't seen it with their own eyes—"

"Please, doctor, we cannot simply take your word, we, as scientists, need some sort of tangible proof."

"I— I can show you." She heard the room take a collective breath of astonishment.

"Please, go right ahead."

Doctor Mary Malone stood humbly at a podium in front of—well, it must have been a couple hundred or more, she thought. All of the finest scientists in her field—the study of Dark Matter—were there, and Will, too, to her great relief. She had only to look him in the eyes when she was nervous or doubtful, and she regained her strength, her purpose and determination. She had to think of it then, again, to continue: to educate the people of her world, to encourage free thought, to _keep making Dust_. She had called this conference after months of preparation, after her voyage into another world and her discovery of the consciousness and purpose behind the Dust itself. She thought of it now, for the sake of the conference, as a scientific journey, akin to a zoologist taking a trek to Africa to study giraffes. But it was more than that, of course.  
Now, though, it was all she could do to keep from crying. She had made slide shows, given speeches, shown drawings and extensively detailed reports—she did everything she could do to possibly convince her colleagues of the true nature of the world. But, as with all new and radical ideas, it was not accepted by anyone in the room, except for three—Mary, of course, was one of them, and another was Will. But there was a third of whom neither was aware, and who watched from a dark corner in the back of the amphitheater with absolutely no skepticism or doubt, because he _had_ seen it with his own eyes. He was not a scientist of any sort, nor was he in the least bit interested in Mary's attempt to explain her findings to her doubtful audience. He watched the two of them intently, never becoming distracted and always staying on his target—the young boy, Will. The man had one mission: a simple delivery. But it could be made later—soon, but later—privately, someplace he could stay out of sight, and where they could talk.

He became more interested in the argument immediately when Mary had made the astonishing claim that she could show them Dust. He had seen it, but only in pictures and slides. Its purpose was clear to him though: it was the source of all consciousness, and it was created of conscious thought. He had perhaps absorbed more by this time simply by watching Mary's presentations. Now, his unseen eyes were fixed on the presenter, and he, along with the rest of the audience, waited.

"Yes, of course." Mary darted over to one side of the stage and produced what looked like a small section of thick bamboo, tapered more at one end, almost like a crude telescope of some kind. She peered into it with one eye, closing the other, to make sure it was working—she did not want to humiliate herself any further. She breathed out in relief as soon as she saw the image, and then handed it to the one person who had taken the role of speaking the crowd's common thoughts. He was a tall, thin man, and his greying beard and wrinkled skin gave away his age. He would have seemed a kind and knowledgeable old gentleman had you met him on the street, and Mary still saw these qualities in him, as fixed as he was on his own formulaic theories. She could convince him, she thought.

He paused for a few seconds, looking to the crowd for some sort of acknowledgement. They were silent. So, he flinched, as if to say "here goes nothing," and put the scope up to his eye. As soon as he did, he stepped back, amazed and shocked by what he saw. The audience shared in his excitement, and there was much commotion and formulation of ideas among them. But then the man—being the good scientist that he was, and having seen many hoaxes and faked experiments—took on an air of doubt, just as before.

"I am impressed. It's a beautiful sight, if nothing else. Please, doctor, explain the workings of this… this spyglass."

"Yes, of course; it is a spyglass, as you said sir, but it is one for seeing Dust—I mean—Dark Matter"

"I can see, yes, but how does it work? How do we know it does what you say?"

"Well, okay— it consists of two amber plates, as tree sap was the only material I had to work with at the time, though I'm confident this would work with glass as well. Anyway, the amber is shined and lacquered to a glass finish, and then coated with the oil of a certain tree which happens to collect Dark Matter. I think it—it may polarize the particles like the reflection of the sun on water. I admit that I don't know exactly how it works, or why; but I do know that it does."

The entire audience was interested in seeing through this amber spyglass, but Mary knew that not everyone could, so she thought up a way to project its image onto the screen in front. One of her colleagues had an optical assembly set up for a separate presentation, and suggested she use a pass-through mirror to shine a light through the spyglass and onto the screen. They set this up, amid much background noise and chatter, and when it was finally ready, Mary turned on the light and watched, hopefully. She saw a fairly faint golden glow, very fuzzy and blurred. She moved the apparatus closer to the screen to try to bring it in focus, and by the time it was, the image was no more than two feet in diameter, but showed all the details clearly. It was the entire audience, not magnified, but bathed in a warm golden glow that moved and fluttered like dust in a beam of sunlight through a window. And they were silent.

The old man walked in front of the spyglass and watched the effect. He waved his hands, and watched the Dust eddy and swirl in the air. He was clearly mesmerized.

The rest of the audience watched as he did this, waiting for some scientific explanation. For some, this was all they needed to secure their belief in Mary's story. But for others, it did seem like a hoax. Mary had to speak before the confusion took over the crowd.

"That— is Dark Matter." She stuttered out, hearing the audience mumble with astonishment. "And if you can see the particles, they almost exactly coincide with the original Ellman-Rosbury theory. First, all of you noticed the golden color, which was one of the first things established; and second, the fluid movement of the particles; and third, um, the tendency to concentrate only on adults, not children. Are there any children in the audience? I see four, at least, judging by the dark spots in the image here."

Four little raised hands affirmed her guess. The volume in the room rose again, but the old man put his hand up to quiet them. "It is clear that Dr. Malone's theories have merit, especially considering her revelation of the true image of Dark Matter. We will need to study and confirm her findings, but I am sure without a doubt that they will bring new life into our field!" The audience erupted with applause. Mary was ecstatic; she could barely hold her glee, and wanted to cry out a yelp of happiness like a small child opening a birthday present. But she had to give a closing statement, of course, which she managed to squeeze out excitedly. The auditorium began to empty after her last words, and she turned to the old man to thank him. He had taken the spyglass out of its mount and was looking around in awe.

"Excuse me, sir—"

"Ah, yes, Dr. Malone, Mary, is it? Wonderful discovery, this; absolutely fascinating."

"Well, I just wanted to thank you, Doctor…"

"Doctor Gregory, Samuel Gregory, pleased to meet you at last." He said, as he held out his hand. Mary shook it, and began to talk with him about her research into these Shadow Particles, and her discovery that they were conscious, and how she had talked to them. They both knew that these ideas would truly never be accepted without a real experimental demonstration like the one Mary had performed with her computer program to talk to dust. Doctor Gregory had to be on his way, so they said goodbye, and Mary thanked him one last time before he walked out.

"That went well." Will said nonchalantly, still sitting in his seat in the front left corner. She hadn't noticed him sitting there before, and he surprised her a little. They were alone now; the theater felt empty.

"Yeah, it did. I was surprised."

"Had you planned on using the spyglass?"

"Not unless they didn't believe everything else."

"Which they didn't." He chuckled a bit, and stood up, walking over to the spyglass. "Funny, I don't think I've ever looked through it."

"You should. It's beautiful."

"So I hear." He picked it up off the table and placed it to his eye. It was pointed straight at Mary, who made some movements with her hands to make his view more interesting. "Wow," he said, "It is pretty." He turned to where the audience would be, and saw a faint glow in the back of the room. "Is there anyone else in here?" He asked the empty room, still pointing the spyglass at the small point of concentrated Dust. There was no answer. 

"No, I don't think so… what is it?" Mary asked him, curious.

"A little glow of Dust in the back there."

"I don't see anyone there; maybe it's just seeping through the door."

"No, it's something small, and it's got dust like yours."

He walked down the aisle until he could see the small object more clearly. Without the spyglass, he couldn't see it at all. Looking through it, though, the image was very clear. Before he could think about what he saw, it moved slowly into the light coming through the crack in the large double doors in the back of the theater. Will knew exactly what he was looking at—the man was no taller than his hand, and was dressed plainly in dark clothing with a large rucksack slung over his shoulders—it was a Galivespian.

"Will Parry?"

"Yes? I'm Will. How are you here, aren't all the windows closed?"

"Yes. All have been closed, except for the one which you know of. My name is Ahmalus. I came through the last window into your world to give you something very important. My people feel indebted to you, for you have saved all life, and have done many other great things for all the worlds of this planet."

Mary was following a little ways behind Will, and now she saw the little man, and was just watching the two talk, as though they were exactly the same size. She, however, was shocked by his size, as she had never before seen a Galivespian. She had seen many things that were much odder, though, and soon her surprise ceased.

"Thank you, Ahmalus, I am grateful for your compliments, but how is it you can survive away from your own world for so long?"

"It has not been so long. Only two months have passed since the last two windows were closed, one to your world, and one to Lyra's."

Will's heart raced at the sound of her name. "Have you spoken to her?"

"No, not personally. But there is another of my kind on a similar mission in her world."

"What is your mission, then?" He asked eagerly.

"There is hidden in your world a device capable of transmitting and receiving signals of any kind to and from a receiver in another world. As a gift for your contributions to our kind, and to the world, my people give these to your care to do as you wish—one to you, and one to Lyra Belaqua."

"So we can send messages back and forth?"

"Yes; it will transmit your voice to her."

Will was ecstatic—he had not heard Lyra's name for weeks but from his own lips, and had not heard her voice since they parted eight months ago. The time had passed, if nothing else. He often thought of rebuilding the knife to go see her again for a while, and finding the spectre immediately after he opened the window and killing it. But he realized that those were only dreams, and that they were separated forever until death, and that was that. But this news gave him new hope that they would see each other again, or, at the very least, talk. Oh, to hear her sweet voice just once more, he would be satisfied for the rest of his life.


End file.
